When I was a relatively young boy, there was a popular TV show called “Different Strokes,” about a rich widowed father of a teenage girl, who adopts two boys: Willis and Arnold.
In one two-part episode, Willis joins a cult that worships a head of cabbage. In the second part of the episode, Willis goes to the cult’s church early in the morning and watches as the cult leadership replaces the head of cabbage with a fresh one from the grocery store. He figures out that the cult is fake, and goes home.
I was already a Christian when I saw that episode, but I remember my parents calling all religions cults, Christianity included.
To the atheist, there is not much of a difference between a religion and a cult. The atheist assumes that all religions are false, and thus that the difference between a ‘religion’ and a ‘cult’ is simply a matter of size. My father said that all religions start as cults, but some survive the death of the cult leader and expand enough that we start calling it ‘religion.’
Whenever I start an essay I know will be controversial, I like to start with definitions, and I like to use older definitions, from before people started to change the definitions of words to weaponize connotation, in a process I call the War on Words. For this purpose I keep a copy of the American Heritage Dictionary published in 1985 on my desk.
Here are the definitions of ‘religion’ and ‘cult,’ from that dictionary.
re·li·gion (rĭ-lĭj′ən) n.
1.
a. Belief in and reverence for a supernatural power recognized as the creator and governor of the universe.
b. A particular integrated system of this expression: the Hindu religion.
2. The spiritual or emotional attitude of one who recognizes the existence of a superhuman power or powers.
3. An objective pursued with zeal or conscientious devotion: A collector might make a religion of his hobby.
cult (kŭlt) n.
1. A system or community of religious worship and ritual.
2.
a. A religion or religious sect generally considered to be extremist or bogus.
b. Followers of such a religion or sect.
3.
a. Obsessive devotion or veneration for a person, principle, or ideal, esp. when regarded as a fad.
b. The object of such devotion.
4. An exclusive group of persons sharing an esoteric interest.
Those definitions aren’t very helpful in distinguishing a religion from a cult, other than perhaps by scale and durability, so allow me to throw an alternative differentiator.
The difference is not size and scope, but intent.
A religion is a set of beliefs developed to seek truth through a divine Creator, and a cult is a set of beliefs developed to gain control over followers.
Note that I am not claiming a religion must be true to qualify as a religion. I’m only saying that the intent of those who formed it has to have been to explain the world, rather than to control people.
Most ancient religions were attempts at finding truth. Most, for example, noted that the sun both provides light (and its accompanying warmth), and also sets into the Earth each night. The sun was worshiped not only as the provider of light, but also as that which fertilizes the Earth. The Earth, then, was the fertility goddess whose union with the sun provided food.
Today, people laugh at the notion of a sun god, but it carried tremendous explanatory power for people who did not understand photosynthesis or the cycle of seasons.
Ancient people had less knowledge than we do, but they were just as smart as us, and they adapted their practices in worshipping their gods based around what they believed their gods found pleasing. Being intelligent, they determined what their gods found pleasing based around what worked.
Many of the things mankind does to survive in the world originally stem from practices done to appease some god, and though knowledge may have driven the old gods away, there is a tremendous amount of wisdom hidden underneath the lore.
We like to think that wisdom comes with knowledge, but it does not. If I were a priest in an ancient religion, I would make knowledge and wisdom brother gods, and I would make knowledge the older, stronger brother. These brothers would often conflict, such that as knowledge grows, wisdom is often lost.
To the atheist, all religions are false, but wisdom tells us to look deeper. This essay will look at modern religions through the lens of intent, determining if they are based on attempts at finding truth, or if they are built to control.
Knowledge and Wisdom
Human beings have always tried to understand the world around them. The first tool used is knowledge. Knowledge is built from facts, measurements, techniques, and observations. We collectively call this the ‘scientific method.’
The second tool is wisdom. Wisdom is the ability to understand what those facts mean, and how human beings should live in light of them.
These tools work together when we let them, but they do not grow at the same pace. Knowledge grows quickly. Wisdom only comes over time, and often painfully.
Ancient people did not have our scientific instruments or the vast libraries of data we now take for granted. They lacked our knowledge, but not our intelligence. They observed the natural world with care, and developed religious stories that reflected both their questions and their discoveries.
Ancient man built Stonehenge and the Pyramids to such exacting alignments that modern people don’t know how they did it. Ancient man was smart.
Ancient gods did not emerge out of the ether. They evolved over time, as I discuss in my article on the Convergence of the Divine. When knowledge expanded, the number of gods receded, but wisdom understood that civilization is not possible without a shared morality, and a shared morality requires something above man from whence morality can derive.
Knowledge gives people confidence, promoting mastery over nature and convincing us that we are smarter than those who came before. Wisdom produces humility. It reminds us that facts alone do not tell us how to live, and that a life built entirely on technique has no moral anchor.
When knowledge expands too rapidly, pride often follows. A prideful culture begins to believe that because we can measure something, we understand it and can control it. Control, however, is a fragile thing and easily lost. We often think we control things we do not understand.
Those who ignore tradition come to believe that anything old came through ignorance and can be discarded. Culture becomes relative and ethics become personal.
Something very different happens when knowledge and wisdom grow together. Knowledge shows us how the world works whereas wisdom helps us understand what the world means.
A mind shaped by both knowledge and wisdom eventually reaches a simple conclusion: if the world has order, then the order must have a source. If moral law exists, then it must come from something higher than the shifting preferences of men.
This is not a leap into dogma. It is, rather, the sober recognition that explanation is not the same thing as origin, and that mechanics do not replace meaning. For this reason, a harmonized understanding of knowledge and wisdom almost always leads toward faith in some sort of Creator who established the laws of nature and the moral values that govern human life.
Even most atheists believe in the Big Bang. Creation occurred.
Our Founding Fathers understood this relationship well. They were men of the Enlightenment who believed in reason and scientific inquiry, yet they also understood the limits of human understanding. They spoke of Nature’s God, Providence, and the Creator, and believed that our rights come from a higher source than government. They also believed that a free people must live under a moral law they did not personally invent.
Evaluating Modern Religions Through Intent
Intent can be hard to prove, which is likely why most people avoid using it when comparing religions to cults, but we can pretty strongly infer intent based on what those who create religions do.
Most religions throughout history have evolved over time, without any specific founder. This is true of the ancient Greek and Roman religions, as well as modern Hindu. Nobody sat down and wrote the religion of the Aztecs, or of the Apache. Those evolved over time, in many cases making intent institutional.
We can safely assume that these religions were born out of the need to explain, and not to project power.
Even Moses did not write from scratch, as the Israelite people had an identifying culture long before Moses was born. Genesis had been an oral history for perhaps thousands of years before Moses wrote it down, and the laws he wrote emerged from traditions already in place.
Some religions, however, are born in a specific time and place, with a specific person. That person may be the Reverend Moon, Joseph Smith, or Charles Manson.
The two most common religions in the world today also follow this pattern: Christianity and Islam.
Joseph Smith and Muhammad both claimed to have been given a divine revelation that elevated them over other men, as prophets of the one God. Both Joseph Smith and Muhammad became rich and powerful through their revelations – revelations designed to give them control over their followers. In the case of Muhammad, his revelation told him to take over the world.
All cult leaders create their cults to gain wealth and power. In the case of Muhammad, even the name of the cult projected his power. ‘Islam’ is an Arabic word that predates Muhammad. It translates to ‘submission,’ and as Allah’s final and most important prophet, submitting to Allah also meant submitting to Muhammad.
Jesus was different in that He claimed to be the Word of God, and as such, he did not claim to have a revelation. His claim was even bolder: He claimed to be the revelation. Unlike Joseph Smith, Muhammad, or Charles Manson though, Jesus claimed that His kingdom was not of this world, and rather than worldly power, Jesus sought to be sacrificed as the Lamb of God in atonement for the sins of man.
Most cult leaders whose death is a part of the cult take their followers with them, such as David Koresh and Jim Jones.
We also have to look at the intentions of people who claim to be ‘spiritual, but not religious,’ as being ‘spiritual, but not religious’ is a bit like being fat, but not overweight. Being ‘spiritual’ is a religious claim, so what such people are really saying is that they have a personal religion that does not manifest itself in the material world, which is just a fancy way of saying they worship themselves.
Many atheists worship diversity, the state, equity, an addiction, or a degree. We all worship something. We are wired to.
What do cult leaders worship? If they were honest, most of them would admit that they are spiritual, but not religious. The leader always knows the cult is fake.
Cult Leader Traits
Cults do not advertise themselves as cults. They present themselves as movements of truth, healing, enlightenment, or spiritual awakening.
A healthy religion or philosophical tradition seeks truth, encouraging inquiry and accepting dissent. A cult seeks control, so it always discourages inquiry and punishes dissent. Transparency would destroy a cult leader’s authority.
The need to avoid transparency causes certain common traits to emerge in different cults. Cults can be identified by behavioural traits.
The first and most obvious tell is that leaving becomes difficult or dangerous.
Jim Jones insisted that membership in the Peoples Temple was voluntary, yet he surrounded his followers with surveillance, intimidation, and armed guards. Jones punished doubt, humiliated defectors, and treated any attempt to leave as a betrayal of divine will. Voluntary membership existed in theory, but in practice those who wanted to leave were held captive.
Charles Manson claimed that his “Family” was free to come and go, but those who tried to walk away discovered that they were not free at all. Followers were threatened, stalked, or assaulted. Some were told they would be killed if they left.
Manson understood that control collapses the moment a follower realizes he has a choice, so he made sure there was none.
Muhammad openly called for anyone who leaves Islam to be killed for apostasy. Muhammad said that infidels were not taught the truth and could potentially be converted, but that apostates were taught the truth and rejected it. The only solution to that was death. Apostates are supposed to be killed even before infidels as a result.
A second tell is the leader’s claim to exclusive insight.
Cult leaders present themselves as prophets, visionaries, or chosen interpreters of hidden truth. Their authority does not rest on scripture, tradition, or reason, but on a special status they claim.
Jim Jones insisted that he alone could interpret the Bible. Joseph Smith insisted that only he could translate the golden plates. Charles Manson insisted that only he understood the hidden meaning of the Beatles’ music. Muhammad made himself the final prophet of Allah, whose words overrode all others.
Once the leader becomes the sole source of truth, questioning the doctrine becomes identical to questioning the leader, which is betrayal.
A third tell is isolation.
Cults attempt to separate followers from family, friends, and competing sources of meaning. This can be physical, emotional, or intellectual.
Jonestown was physically isolated in Guyana. Manson’s commune isolated members psychologically through drugs, fear, and apocalyptic imagery. Other cults isolate through ideology, insisting that those outside the movement are corrupt, dangerous, or spiritually inferior.
In Different Strokes, Willis had to wear a special robe and had to shave his head except for a little tail of hair coming out of the side of his head. Islam separates the world into the House of Islam, and the House of War.
Another tell is the cult’s sense of morality, which often redefines good and evil around obedience. What serves the leader becomes righteous, while what threatens the leader becomes sinful. Actions that would be condemned in ordinary moral life become virtuous within the cult.
David Koresh required male followers to remain celibate while claiming that God commanded him to take the women of the compound as his own, including underage girls, and women who were already married. He taught that he needed to sin in order to be prepared to judge the sins of others, which inverted the idea of spiritual leadership.
Jones declared suicide noble. Manson declared murder necessary. Smith declared plural marriage divinely mandated when it served his desires.
The Qur’an originally limited Muslim men to four wives, yet Muhammad was permitted more. When Muhammad desired Zaynab, the wife of his adopted son, a revelation followed that dissolved the adoption and legitimized the marriage. When he married Aisha, a six-year-old girl, another revelation framed the marriage as divinely appointed.
In each case, the moral code adapted to the leader’s needs rather than restraining them.
In a legitimate religion, the moral law precedes the leader and restrains him. In a cult, the moral code is reshaped to serve the leader’s needs and desires.
These tells appear in small groups led by charismatic individuals, but they also appear in large systems built on control. The scale may change, but the structure does not.
Sects vs Cults
Sometimes a religion is used to create cults. There is in fact a branch of modern Christianity called the Prosperity Gospel, invented by Essek William Kenyon in the early 1900s, teaching that God makes those He favors rich, and that the best way to bring abundance into your own life is to donate as much as possible to your minister.
Joel Osteen is a modern adaptation of this. His revelation is that he needs giant houses and yachts. The notion is that making your minister rich will put you in God’s favor, and that God will in turn make you rich as well.
Some consider the Prosperity Gospel a Christian sect, similar to being part of the United Methodist Church or a Baptist. I would argue that we need to look at intent to determine between religious offshoots that legitimately interpret foundational texts, and those that abandon the core of the religious message entirely.
A sect forms when a community of believers emphasizes a particular doctrine, practice, or interpretation while remaining grounded in the foundational purpose of the religion. A sect may disagree with parts of the broader tradition, but it still seeks to understand and follow it.
A cult, by contrast, uses the language and symbols of a religion, but redirects them toward the leader’s authority, needs, or desires. The distinction has nothing to do with how controversial the teaching is. It has to do with intent: Joel Osteen is not preaching an alternative interpretation of the Bible when he says that God wants him to have a Ferrari.
Christian history is full of genuine sects that remain anchored in the pursuit of truth. The Eastern Orthodox Church, the Roman Catholic Church, and the various Protestant traditions all disagree on important theological questions, yet each tradition continues to uphold the authority of Scripture, the centrality of Christ, and the moral framework taught by the early church.
Judaism shows the same pattern. The Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, and later the various rabbinic streams all interpreted the Torah differently. The Karaite Jews rejected the oral tradition while the Rabbinic Jews embraced it. Each group believed it was seeking a truthful understanding of the covenant. None replaced the core of Judaism with the personal ambitions of a charismatic leader.
Hinduism illustrates this even more clearly. It contains devotional traditions (bhakti), philosophical systems (Vedanta), yogic disciplines, and temple-centered worship. There are vast differences of emphasis, practice, and metaphysics, yet they are unified by the intent to understand Brahman, dharma, and the nature of the self.
Hinduism also has examples of groups that formed around a powerful guru demanding personal submission. These groups discouraged outside relationships, and treated tradition as a mask for private authority. These are cults. They borrow the language of Hinduism, but their purpose is to secure control.
A sect tries to understand the truth of its tradition. A cult, or a church drifting toward cultic behavior, tries to bend the tradition toward external goals. The distinction does not lie in style, emphasis, or denominational structure, but in intent.
I am focusing on the religions I know the most about, but the same pattern holds with Buddhism, Shintoism, and other religions. Both sects and cults are common.
Conclusion
When Willis, in Different Strokes, discovered that his cabbage god was from a grocery store, the spell broke.
I was just a child, but it was obvious even to me that the cabbage had never been sacred. What I did not understand at the time is that adults can fall for their own version of a cabbage god.
My parents called all religions cults. From their vantage point, cults become religions only when they outlive the leader who started them. This is the typical atheist perspective, starting not with intent, but with dismissal.
Starting with intent gives us far more explanatory precision.
Ancient people built religions to understand the world. They used the knowledge available to them, and they paired it with wisdom gained from countless generations of lived experience.
The same is true of genuine religious traditions today. They wrestle with meaning, and ask where moral law comes from.
When knowledge outpaces wisdom, people assume that tradition, and the moral truths contained within, are outdated. In that world, everything becomes relative and truth becomes optional. Leaders begin to shape moral claims to suit themselves, just as in a cult.
A child can see the difference between a religion and a cult when the cabbage gets swapped out in the dark. Adults should be able to see it too. The challenge is not that the truth is hidden, but that pride often blinds us to what is staring us in the face.
Wisdom begins when we stop asking how to make the world fit our desires and look to tradition to see what the world means. Only when we do that does the cabbage god fall away, and the search for understanding begin.
